


Whispers

by BreakfastTea



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Bullying, Gen, Prompto gets a mention, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 03:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14535222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: Sometimes, Noctis drifts off into a daze and speaks the language of the Astrals. Dad and everyone at the Citadel knows how to deal with it.The other children at school do not, and now they think maybe Noctis is part daemon...





	Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Fanfic Friday #12! Wow!
> 
> This is for the lovely anon who requested Noct having to deal with spacing out in front of everyone at school and inadvertently speaking the language of the Astrals. Thank you for you patience <3

The first time it happened, Regis thought Noctis merely talked nonsense in his sleep. Five years old and in the middle of his bedtime story, he slumped in Regis’ lap. Thinking his son had had a tiring day, Regis moved to slide him under his covers. Before he could, Noctis started whispering to himself. At first, it was too soft to hear. When he gained volume, Regis realised whatever Noctis said, the language wasn’t one he’d ever been taught. It was an ancient tongue, one Regis knew of but had never fully mastered.

The language of the Astrals.

Looking down at Noctis, he realised his son wasn’t asleep. Not exactly. His eyes were just barely open. The strange words kept pouring out of him in a whispered rush. Regis shuddered. Not yet. The Crystal had shown him a vision of the future in which his son was fully frown. Surely, surely the Astrals wouldn’t bother with him. Not yet. Not when he was so little. So fragile.

Then something far worse happened.

Power stirred in his son, magic he was far too young to touch or wield.

“Noct?” Regis cupped his son’s cheek. Panic sharpened his tone. “Wake up. Now.”

The words stopped flowing. Noctis stirred, blinking heavily. “Dad?” he whispered. Tears filled his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Regis pulled Noctis into his arms.

“You sounded mad.” Noctis’ voice came back muffled.

“Oh, no, not mad. Never at you. I thought you’d fallen asleep. You were talking to yourself.”

“No, not to myself.” Noctis yawned. “To the um… the… er…” He snuggled against Regis. “I don’t remember.”

“Sleep now,” Regis said, smoothing Noctis’ hair back from his forehead. “It was all just a dream.”

“Dad?”

“Yes, Noct?”

“I feel tingly.” He yawned. “And sleepy.”

Regis rocked Noctis, humming gently. “Close your eyes then.”

Moments later, Noctis’ breathing deepened as he drifted into sleep. Regis didn’t release him until he was certain the power coalescing within his son dissipated completely.

“Not yet,” Regis whispered, sliding Noctis under the covers. “Please, he’s so little.”

* * *

The next time it happened, Noctis was six and in the company of his governess, Ciel. He was halfway through reading a book to her when it fell from his hands. His eyelids drooped, his body slumping in on itself. His governess tried to rouse him, but he was unresponsive.

And then the strange words spilled out.

Unable to awaken the prince from his stupor, Ciel grabbed him and hurried to find help. Other staffers stared at her, calling out to offer help. She bypassed all of them, heading straight for King Regis’ chambers. She reached the doors, calling out to the Crownsguard to allow her in. Shock showed in their faces but they did as the young, petite woman ordered.

King Regis sat behind his desk, speaking with his councillors. All of them looked over at Ciel’s loud entry.

She caught her breath, cheeks burning as everyone in the room turned to stare at her. “Your Majesty, forgive me.”

Regis was up and moving, taking his son from her arms. For a moment, the only sound to be heard in the room was the soft murmuring coming from Noctis. Without a word to anyone else, Regis took Noctis out of his office and down to his bedroom. He could feel it again, that stirring of powerful magic.

Regis slipped into his rooms and kicked the door shut behind him. He set Noctis down on the chair.

“Wake up,” he said, voice firm.

Noctis’ eyes snapped up. Regis flinched at the bizarre light changing the blue to a neon purple. Magic flickered, reaching out to connect to something far greater than himself. His magic was a call, a hand held out, seeking to help. Regis couldn’t sense anything answering the call. Noctis was too young, far too untrained, and nowhere near strong enough to Summon. Besides, the Astrals were either sleeping or dead. Regis released a breath when Noctis’ magic subsided. He watched his son close his eyes, drifting off.

Worried, Regis brushed a hand over Noctis’ head. “Noct? Wake up.”

This time, Noctis’ eyes were back to their usual blue. He frowned. “Dad? Why are you here?” He looked around. “No. Why am I here?”

Regis could see Noctis’ confusion turning to panic. “You fell asleep so Ciel brought you by.”

“Oh.” Noctis curled up in the chair, yawning. “I think I had a strange dream.”

“What happened in your strange dream?”

“Um…” He yawned again. “I saw some really big people.” He giggled. “They were as big as the Citadel!”

“How strange,” Regis said, keeping his voice light.

“They have big voices.” Noctis frowned, his little hands rubbing at his head. “They make my head ache.”

Regis put the back of his hand to Noctis’ forehead, relieved when he didn’t feel the heat of a fever. “Does your head hurt now?”

Noctis didn’t reply. He’d already dozed off. Grabbing a blanket, Regis tucked his son in. He sat back, wondering if these spells were just going to be part of Noctis’ life now.

* * *

The spells did indeed continue. They weren’t frequent occurrences – maybe two or three a year at most. Regis ensured the Citadel’s staff knew what to do and how best to help him, for as he aged Noctis remembered more. He would talk of strange people, none of whom were quite human, and how they spoke to him in voices so loud he had to hold his hands over his ears to block out the sounds. The magic stirred within him, but never enough to cause any problems. After all, he couldn’t Summon an Astral without their blessing.

To Noctis, it was just another weird thing he did that caused people to look at him strangely. He was really, really sick of that. And maybe just a little frightened, too. Why couldn’t he be more normal?

When he was eight, he had a spell in front of Luna. She didn’t react like the others. She acted like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to space out in the middle of a conversation and have dreams of giant people.

“Don’t be scared,” Luna told him one day when they sat together in his bedroom. She showed him a big book full of elaborate illustrations. She opened it, showing him a picture of people – Astrals – he recognised from the dreams he had now and then. “They only want to help you.”

“I don’t understand what they’re trying to tell me,” Noctis said. He rubbed his aching head. “Not really.”

“You speak their language in your dreams,” Luna said. “I even understood a little bit! I’m still leaning, but it sounds almost like you’re their friend. I think you told them you’d help.” She laughed. “At least, I think that’s what you said. It’s a really tough language to understand! I promise I’ll know how it by the time we’re grown up.” She smiled and Noctis relaxed. “That’s what I’ll have to do.”

“I don’t understand it at all. Not… not when I’m awake. Does that make sense?” Noctis asked.

Luna nodded. “Dreams are their own kind of magic after all,” she said.

Noctis eased himself onto the pillows, worn out by everything. His body ached, his head throbbed and now his dreams included a giant snake that came out of the sea. Luna might think they were all friends, but the giant water snake thingy definitely didn’t feel friendly to him.

“Rest well,” Luna said.

He wanted to say sorry because she’d come to see him and he was too tired to play or listen to her stories today. And he was frightened. There was something about that sea snake he really didn’t like. When it spoke, it made his head really hurt more than any of the others.

Noctis reached out for the small Carbuncle figure his dad had given him. He held it close and drifted off into nicer dreams.

* * *

The voices came to him when he was at school. He was twelve now, and ever since his time in Tenebrae, the strange dream moments had been rare. Before, the dreams had been clear and easy to remember. But since the attack, the visions were hazy and dark. Dad had told him it was because the damage caused by the Marilith had limited Noctis' ability to wield magic. Hearing that made Noctis feel awful no matter how much Dad reassured him that different didn't mean bad. But when he snapped back out of a terrible sight of a huge, horned Astral on _fire_ in the middle of a PE lesson to find everyone – including the teacher – staring at him, it took every scrap of self-control he had within him not to bolt out of the hall. He was used to be looked at, but now they stared at him like he might bite them.

Sleep weighed him down. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep off the latest headache inducing dream of the Astrals. Instead, he pushed himself up. Wobbling on his feet, his body crackled with the lingering sensation of magic. He lost his balance, crashing into some of the other students. They caught him, all of them speaking at once. Head pounding, he pulled himself of their grip.

The PE teacher ordered the rest of the class to back away. They did as they were told, but it didn’t stop the whispering. Noctis could hear them even as his teacher led him out of the hall.

_What a weirdo!_

_Did you see his eyes?_

_I guess that accident he had really scrambled his brains!_

_What if he’s possessed by a daemon or something? I bet the King wouldn’t like that._

_There’s something really wrong with him._

_I don’t wanna sit next to him anymore! What if he melts my face off with magic?!_

The only person not whispering was Prompto. Noctis caught his eye, but the other boy looked away. Tired and sore, Noctis allowed himself to be taken to the nurse’s office. He curled up on the bed, pulled the blanket over his head and slept.

“Noct.”

Ignis’ familiar voice woke him. Looking up, he saw his friend staring at him worriedly. Without a word, Noctis followed him out of the school and back to the car. Ignis held the door open, then climbed into the back seat alongside Noctis. Moments later, the driver pulled away, heading back to the Citadel.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m tired.”

“You had one of your… moments. The dreams.”

Noctis closed his eyes. His _moments_. What were they? He never knew when they were coming, and when he woke up, people at the Citadel carried on like nothing had happened. Even Luna had taken it in her stride. She was the only one who’d ever explained to him what they were. _Speaking with the Astrals._ Why could he do that? And why did he speak a language he didn’t understand? He didn’t understand any of it.

What if those kids at school were right? What if there really was something badly wrong with him? People at the Citadel always acted like it was fine for him to randomly fall asleep, but what if it wasn’t? Other people didn’t do that, did they? Dad didn’t, and if anyone would it’d be him because he was the only other person alive connected to the Crystal the same was Noctis was. What if they’d all been lying to him for all these years and something was actually really, seriously wrong with him?

This time, embarrassment and worry kept Noctis awake. Drowsy, sure, but stubbornly awake. He followed Ignis through the hallways back to his rooms, wishing his dad would come to see him. Instead, empty hours went by, filled only with Ignis forcing him to eat.

Dad never came. There were more important things happening in the kingdom than Noctis’ weird _moments._

* * *

School was a miserable experience for the rest of the week. Noctis was used to being watched and whispered about, but this was the first time people backed away from him in fear, like he might do something to them. Their whispers were cruel, and the other children made sure Noctis heard every word.

_He’s a daemon. I bet he is._

_The King must be so disappointed in him. My dad would be._

_If he had a brother or a sister, I bet they’d get rid of him. That’s what used to happen!_

_Didn’t you hear? He can speak a daemon language!_

_He’s so creepy! Now we know why he never talks to us._

_Yeah, don’t get too close. He’ll kill you with his eyes!_

_What if the reason the Queen died is because he killed her?_

By Friday lunch time, after four non-stop days of whispering and teasing, Noctis wanted to run away from the staring, whispering children. Forgoing lunch, he forced himself to walk even though the corridor with his head held high even though their glares felt like icy fingers creeping down the back of his neck. He took himself off to his usual spot, hiding out among the disused PE equipment. He tried to ignore their words. He definitely didn’t let them see how bothered he was. What if they were right? What if his moments weren’t something to do with the Astrals but linked to the daemons prowling the world beyond the Wall? What if the Marilith had done something to him that Luna’s mother hadn’t cured?

Breathing fast, Noctis held out his hands, waiting for something to change. What if his skin shredded apart and claws tore out of his bones? What if he sprouted extra arms and tore through the school, shredding everything and everyone in his path?

What if he was the reason his mother had died and Dad never told him? What if that was the real reason Dad rarely came to see him?

What if they were right and if he had a brother or a sister, Dad would get rid of him?

The bell rang, summoning the children back to class. Noctis couldn’t move. The little voice taunting him held him in place. Panic and anguish ran through him. Tears scalded his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. He was supposed to behave and go back to class, but he couldn’t stand the thought of listening to all that whispering. And what if he had another one of his moments in front of them all?

Noctis took an unsteady step forwards, only to freeze again. If he didn’t go back to class, he’d be in so much trouble. But if he did…

His hand slid into his pocket, closing around the phone tucked in there. He pulled it out, hand shaking as he accessed Ignis’ number.

He sent the text before he could stop himself. _Please come and pick me up_.

The phone rang within seconds. Noctis pressed his lips together, trying not to cry. When he had some kind of control over himself, he answered.

“What’s wrong?” Ignis asked.

That was it. Noctis’ self-control unravelled. Dropping to his haunches, he wept.

“I’m on my way,” Ignis said. “Stay where you are.”

Noctis was only too happy to press himself deeper into the shadows. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head upon them, keeping his eyes firmly closed.

He didn’t mean to all asleep. And yet when Ignis’ familiar voice called to him, Noctis snapped awake to discover he’d dozed off. Rubbing his eyes, Noctis accepted Ignis’ helping hand.

“How did you find me?” Noctis asked, climbing to his feet.

“I knew where to look,” Ignis said.

Ignis’ simple statement threatened to reduce Noctis to tears again. However, the sight of the school’s principal standing a short ways off kept him from doing so. Instead, he let Ignis do the talking and followed him out of school without uttering a word. The car waited outside the gates, a member of the Crownsguard behind the wheel. Ignis opened the back door, waited for Noctis to climb in, and then slid in behind him.

They drove back to the Citadel in complete silence. Only once they were alone in Noctis’ room did Ignis speak.

“What happened?” he asked.

Noctis kicked off his shoes. “It’s fine now. Thanks for coming.”

“It’s not fine if you have to be taken out of school halfway through the day,” Ignis said. “Noct, I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

Words bubbled up, pressing against his throat. Noctis wanted to speak, but he also didn’t want to cause any trouble. He just wanted it to all go away. He sat on his bed, reaching for the blankets. Everything would be better if he could just clear his head.

Ignis pulled the bedsheets out of his hand. “If you won’t speak to me about it, I’ll have to fetch the king.”

Noctis froze. Not Dad. He didn’t want Dad to know… he couldn’t…

“Is this about what happened on Monday?” Ignis asked. “At the school? When you had a –”

“They all think I’m a daemon.”

“They?”

“The other kids. They think I’m a daemon, and that I’ll kill them all, and maybe if I had a brother or a sister Dad could get rid of me and maybe Mother’s dead because of me, because I’m no good, and I do weird things and what if something’s really wrong and I – ”

“Stop, stop!” Ignis said. “Noct, none of that’s true.”

The tears were coming again. Noctis scrubbed at his eyes. Why couldn’t he stop crying today? “Ignis, am I a daemon?” His lips trembled. “Am I the reason Mother died?”

To Noctis’ complete surprise, Ignis pulled him into a hug. “No. You’re not a daemon. You’re human. And Queen Aulea died because she was unwell. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Then why do I keep doing weird things? Luna said it was something to do with the Astrals, but what if I’m just gonna wind up killing everyone?”

“Lady Lunafreya is right. You’re connected to the Astrals and to magic because of the Crystal. It’s who you are.” Ignis released him. “These foolish children at school cannot even begin to comprehend the weight of such power.”

Noctis stared at Ignis. He’d never seen his friend so angry before. “Ignis?”

He shook himself. “Forgive me,” Ignis said. “Have they been cruel to you all week?”

“Yeah.”

“Right.” Ignis got to his feet. “Stay here.”

“What are you going to do?” Noctis asked.

“Ensure your school deals with this situation before you return on Monday.”

Noctis stared at his feet, swinging them back and forth. “Oh.” His heart pounded in his chest. Would that really help?

“Stay here,” Ignis said. “Get some rest. I will return shortly.”

Ignis strode out of the room. Noctis smiled. He’d never seen Ignis on a warpath before. He didn’t even know Ignis could get that mad at anything.

But dealing with school bullies wouldn’t deal with the underlying problem. Noctis would keep having his moments no matter what.

Exhaustion swept over him. Grabbing his blankets, he proceeded to pull them over his head.

* * *

He awoke later to the sensation of someone running their fingers through his hair. Opening his eyes, he looked up and saw found his dad sitting with him.

Oh no. What had Ignis said?

Noctis bolted upright. Dad smiled at him, the expression pinched with sadness. “Hello, son.”

“Hi, Dad.”

“I think you and I need to talk.”

Countless questions circled Noctis’ mind, but he didn’t ask a single one.

Dad reached out, squeezing Noctis’ hands. “Ignis spoke to me.”

Noctis nodded, mouth dry.

“And I have dealt with the school personally. The bullying won’t continue.”

“Okay,” Noctis said.

“But there’s something far more important you need to know.” Dad pulled Noctis into his arms. “You are the most precious person in this world to me. Nothing else matters. Whatever was said is a lie. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

Noctis swallowed hard. “I don’t mean to keep having weird moments,” he said.

“Your moments are proof of who you are.”

Noctis pulled himself free of his dad’s embrace. “You never have them, do you?”

“No. But the Crystal works with all of us in different ways. My father and I weren’t so alike. And you know from your history lessons that our ancestors wielded a huge variety of weapons and styles that wouldn’t fit you or I.”

“So maybe there is something wrong with me.”

“Noct, there’s nothing wrong with you! You’re just you. Sometimes your magic overcomes you and you speak in the Astrals’ language. With time and training, you’ll learn to control your power and these episodes will subside.”

“Are you sure? I’m not…” But the words _I’m not turning into a daemon_ seemed so dumb now, Noctis couldn’t say them aloud.

“Very sure. We should’ve talked about this a long time ago,” Dad said. “I’m sorry, Noct.”

“It’s okay,” Noctis said. “I understand now.” Understood that he wasn’t going crazy, and he wasn’t going to turn into some kind of daemon.

Regis smiled. “So, seeing as we’ve both taken the afternoon off, why don’t we go and have some fun?”

Noctis perked up. “Really? Like what?”

“Hmmm,” Regis said, looking thoughtful. “We haven’t been out to the chocobo stables in a while.”

Noctis slid out of bed. “Okay!”

Regis smiled, ruffling Noctis’ hair. “Good boy. Come along then. We’ll take the Regalia.”

Noctis followed his dad out of his bedroom. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re welcome. But next time, don’t keep it all bottled up. If you can’t talk to me, talk to Ignis. Alright?”

“Okay.”

Noctis wouldn’t promise anything, but he’d do his best. And when he went back to school next week, he’d hold his head high and go back to ignoring everyone just like he always did.

He wasn’t a daemon after all. He was just Noctis Lucis Caelum. And that was fine by him.

**Author's Note:**

> See you all next week for the penultimate Fanfic Friday. Gotta say I am having a lot of fun writing that one right now XD


End file.
